Le Tango de Roxanne
by Sandra Athrenael
Summary: Vivian breaks her parents rules and goes to the Moulin Rouge where she is shunned by the nightlife because she is of a higher class. In an attempt to be accepted, she becomes a Moulin Dancer and falls in love with Christian. This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

**_"Le Tango De Roxanne"_**  
  
**Chapter 1**  
  
"Vivian!" My mother called shrilly from down the stairs.  
  
"Coming Mother!" I called, brushing the last knot out of my hair. I sighed dejectedly, taking one least look in the mirror before smoothing down my dress and rushing downstairs.  
  
"We're going to be late." She reminded me.  
  
Last year on my birthday I learned that we were never late for anything. She says this to me every year, but we always leave fifteen minutes early, so being late isn't even an option.  
  
This was a tradition with us. Every year my mother, my father, and I would go to the same fancy restaurant for my birthday, and I was aching for a change in the routine. I turned eighteen this birthday, and as an adult I wanted to escape. I wanted to go to some grown-up place without my parents.  
  
I wanted to go to the Moulin Rouge.  
  
But there was no way in any lifetime that my mother or father would ever permit me to visit the dance hall that all of Paris talks about. It is simply just too full of the wrong type of activity, and my parents want me no where near it. This fact, however, just made me want to go even more.  
  
It seemed so exciting there, with all its blaring music and plashing lights, not to mention the fine selection of men that went promenading around the dance floor every night. True, they were almost always drunk, but if you looked hard enough, you could find a nearly sober one.  
  
People sometimes wonder how I know so much about a place I've never been. I tell them that my friends supply me with all the knowledge I could ever need about the Moulin Rouge, because they are weekly visitors with plenty or stories to tell.  
  
So this birthday, I decided it was time for me to escape.  
  
"Mother," I started just as we were about to exit the doorway.  
  
"Yes dear?" She said, turning around.  
  
"I'm not feeling well at all. My head is burning and my stomach feels ill. Can I please be excused from the supper tonight and lie down until it passes?" Her brow wrinkled.  
  
"But, Vivian, a moment ago you were feeling fine, and I've already made the reservations. Are you sure it isn't just nerves?" I scoffed inwardly.  
  
"What do I possibly have that would cause me to be nervous mother?" I asked.  
  
"Very well." She replied, frowning. "You may rest. But if I find out that this is just an excuse to skip dinner you will be punished severely."  
  
I nodded, putting one hand one my stomach and the other one my forehead. "Yes Mother, anything you like." I proceeded to go upstairs, groaning loudly as if to prove to her that I was telling the truth. I wasn't, of course, but it never hurts to play it up a bit.  
  
When I was absolutely positive they had gone, I changed into my favorite dress. It was, in my opinion, perfect for the place I was going. It was extremely low cut, and the bodice of the dress had a lace up front, making it look like a backwards corset. The skirt went down to my ankles and had many different layers of colorful fabric piled on top of each other. I had never seen the cancan dancers at the Moulin, but I was pretty sure I would fit in.  
  
As I walked out the door, I was faced by my three closest friends.  
  
"Going to the Moulin Rouge, are you?" One of them said. I nodded, smiling, and let them lead me to the one place I've always dreamed of going.  
  
I was finally able to see the Moulin Rouge. 


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2-_**  
  
a/n: The descriptions of the Moulin Rouge used in this chapter are strictly based on the images used in the movie. I myself have never been to the actual Moulin Rouge, so for people who really know what it was like, please excuse me if any of the descriptions are wrong.

* * *

I walked down the street stealthily, looking in every direction as if my mother would suddenly round the corner and march me back to the house. The Moulin Rouge was growing steadily closer, and I could see the top of the red windmill against the dark blue sky.  
  
As I drew closer the rest of it came into view and I was nearly blinded by all the electric lighting. Supposedly the Moulin's owner Harold Zidler was very fond of lighting and had gone bankrupt in attempt to make his nightclub the most brightly lit place in all of Paris.  
  
People crowded the streets, talking, smoking, and drinking. A man came up from behind me and put a hand on my backside. I gasped and turned sharply around, my hand making instant contact with his face. He swaggered away, laughing drunkenly, and I proceeded to the front doors, only a tiny bit shaken. Already I could hear the music blaring from inside.  
  
The doors were opened for me, and the steamy nightclub air flooded my face. I gazed around, trying to look certain of where I was going when I realized that my friends were nowhere in sight. They must have slipped away in the crowd when I wasn't looking. Instantly I was captivated by the dancers' skirts. There were so many layers that never stayed still.  
  
All around me was more electric lighting, flashing and circling around the room. Spotlights fell on people, and the flashing lights made me blink continuously until I was used to them. The whole room was filled with noise and action, making it very hard for one to collect their thoughts. I made my way to a small table off in a corner and sat down, my eyes transfixed on the shining dance floor.  
  
Smoke made the air hazy, and a bottle of Absinthe was placed in front of me. I studied it for a moment, having an interior struggle about whether to drink it or not. The fact that I wasn't normally allowed it made the drink look even more appealing. On the other hand, I knew the effects of a night of drinking, and they weren't pleasant. My mischievous side one over and I lifted the bottle to my lips, allowing a good amount of liquid in.  
  
It was disgusting. Possible the most vile, horrid liquid I had ever managed to force down my throat, and it took all my willpower not to spit it out all over my front. I swallowed it quickly, the alcohol rubbing my throat raw. I screwed my face into a contorted position and took a deep breath. The after taste was almost as bad as the drink itself, and for a moment I was afraid that I might vomit. Anyone watching me at the moment might worry that I was having a fit.  
  
I shuddered convulsively and closed my eyes. When I opened them, my eyes fell on a man in a booth not far from my own. He was very handsome, probably the most handsome man I had seen in years. He had brown hair and bright eyes that lit up when he was talking. I tried to avert my eyes but every few seconds I found myself staring again. He never noticed, thankfully, but he was staring fixedly at something above our heads.  
  
The instant I looked up I knew why. The whole dance floor had fallen silent as the spotlight fell on a swing that was descending from the ceiling. Perched on the swing's seat was an extremely gorgeous woman with red hair and full lips. Her voice was smooth and beautiful as she sang her well rehearsed lyrics to the drooling crowd below.  
  
The man was captured, along with every other man there, into her web of seduction.

* * *

**a/n: To a certain reviwer who is very worried at the moment. Don't be upset, Christian is not going to fall in love with anyone but Satine in this story. Vivian can fall in love with him, but that doesn't neccesarily mean he'll love her back...does it?**

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**Stay posted for more.**


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